The Night of the Werewolf
by Andamogirl
Summary: Dr. Miguelito Loveless invents a new drug capable of turning a man into a werewolf.
1. Part One

**THE NIGHT OF WEREWOLF**

 **By Andamogirl**

Author's note: Season 2. Episode-tag. This story takes place directly after "The Night of the Wolf". Reference to the following episodes: "The Night of the Wolf"; "The Night That Terror Stalked the Town", "The Night of the Big Blast" and "The Night of the Brain".

 _Artie: (posing as a king) Kneel, peasant._

 _Jim: As a decoy, you're a sitting duck._

 _Artie: I know. Perfectly willing to abdicate, but nobody wants the job._

 _Jim: Long live the king._

 _Artie: Thank you._

TNOT Wolf

Many thanks to my beta readers Old Toad & Tripidydoodah.

WWW

 **PART ONE**

 _The Wanderer,_

 _Artemus's sleeping compartment_

His wig and false mustache gone, Artemus Gordon removed his bi-colored sash, and slowly, very slowly, took off the jacket of the red and gold uniform he was wearing.

He looked at his injured shoulder where the bullet had made a hole, and felt the warmth of his blood soaking into his white shirt, spreading quickly.

Grimacing in pain he gently unbuttoned it, removed it, and bare-chested he turned around and looked at his back reflected in the mirror hanging next to the door.

He sighed with relief to see an exit wound in his back. "Good… no surgery is needed to remove the bullet." Sudden heat came over him, followed by the sensation of vertigo. His legs gave out from under him, and he slid to the carpeted floor of the sleeping compartment. "Jim…" he called in a whisper. "Jim… Jim help me!" Lying on his side, his whole body numb, his vision grayed and blackness finally engulfed him.

Artie woke up a minute later grimacing in pain, and realized that his partner was kneeling beside him, shaking his good arm. "Jim… forget what I said… I was wrong, I'm not… alright, after all," he whispered. He squeezed his eyes as the pain become impossible to bear. "Ow!"

Frowning in deep concern, Jim said, "No, you're not. There's an exit wound. The bullet's not inside Artie, I checked. You won't need surgery. But you're running a fever and your wound needs to be treated as soon as possible. I hope there's a doctor in town." He pulled his best friend upright as gently as possible, eliciting moans and groans from the other man. Seeing that Artemus had closed his eyes tight shut, he asked, "Are you still with me, Artie?"

Reopening his eyes, Artie nodded and groaned. "Yes, yes, barely."

Gently, slowly, Jim sat his partner of the edge of his bunk and then laid him on his side. "Alright, I'm going to get the doctor, buddy. I won't be long."

Burying his head in the pillow, through gritted teeth, Artemus replied, "Okay…not going anywhere." Then he closed his eyes and passed out again.

When Jim reopened the door of The Wanderer thirty minutes later, Dr. Prescott at his heels, he froze on the threshold and said, "Go back to your office, Doctor. Now."

Puzzled, Prescott frowned. "What? But what about your injured friend?" He caught a glimpse of the scene inside the parlor car and opened his eyes wide in surprise – surprise rapidly replaced by fear. He took a step back and said, "I'm going to…"

Still looking straight ahead at the scene before him, Jim interrupted the physician, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, I did not know I had guests. Don't tell anything to the sheriff. It would make things worse, just go. Goodnight, Doctor."

Prescott nodded. "Alright." He left in a hurry.

As soon as the other man had departed, Jim entered the train and closed the door behind him. He looked down in concern at Artemus, who was kneeling on the floor, hand clutching his bleeding shoulder. Miguelito Loveless, framed by four armed, bulky men, was holding a gun to his best friend's temple.

He nodded. "Dr. Loveless, it's always a pleasure to see you."

Loveless smiled broadly, "Likewise, Mr. West. Don't do anything foolish, or your partner here will be the first to die. On your knees and hands behind your head!"

Jim complied without hesitation.

Still smiling, the diminutive man gestured to broken furniture, the disemboweled sofa cushion and the feathers covering the floor. "Redecorating?"

Jim shook his head. "No, we just had some indelicate visitors half an hour ago or so. I didn't have time to do any cleaning, you will excuse me."

Loveless nodded. "You are excused." He looked at Artemus who was fighting to stay conscious. "I suppose they injured your partner too?"

Jim nodded. "Let me take care of him."

Miguelito shook his head. "I will take care of him later. It's not serious." Using his free hand he pulled out a box from the inner pocket of his jacket. He placed it on the sofa and took out the syringe inside. He pierced Artie's neck and injected half of the dose. "It's a powerful sedative," he explained to Jim, noticing the other man's worried look. "I just want you to be unconscious when carried to my new hideout. I have to take some precautions, you understand. I don't want to lose it, like I lost the others – because of you."

Suddenly Artemus face-planted to the floor. Loveless gave the syringe to one of his henchmen. "It's Mr. West's turn," he said before smiling.

WWW

 _Much later, in Loveless's hideout_

Jim woke up tied to a chair, confused. He looked dazedly up at the series of five cages lined up along a wall in front of him. He had no recollection as to how he'd gotten here. Then everything came back to his mind: Loveless had kidnapped Artie and him.

He suddenly gulped and recoiled as he came to the realization that a monstrous black wolf was in each of the cages, at least five times bigger than a normal sized wolf. They were growling and looking at him, bearing their abnormally long teeth.

Then he noticed another cage, further to the left… and saw Artemus lying in it. "Artie! Artie!"

But the other man didn't react. He was still unconscious.

He tried to free himself from the ropes restraining him – but in vain. Loveless had taken all his clothes off him except his underwear, depriving him of his gadgets.

At that moment, he saw his nemesis heading towards him, flanked by two armed goons.

"I didn't know you had started a menagerie," Jim called.

Loveless smiled and gestured to the cages containing the very big wolves. "Ah! But these wolves are not ordinary wolves." He snapped his fingers and the two bulky men lifted the chair Jim was tied to and put it close to Artemus's cage.

Jim frowned in deep worry as he saw that his best friend was shaking with tiny spasms, and that his pale body was covered in sweat. Infection had propagated in his untreated wound, and his fever had worsened. Blood was still seeping from the bullet hole in his shoulder.

The enormous wolf in the cage placed next to Artie's suddenly hurled its bulk against the bars of the cage and stopped, looking down at his partner with glowing yellow eyes, growling, salivating hungrily, driven mad by the smell of blood. It wanted to eat Artie! He realized with horror.

Still smiling Loveless continued, "I was saying that those wolves aren't ordinary wolves, Mr. West – they're werewolves."

Blinking in surprise, Jim said, "What? Werewolves?" He glanced at the wild and dangerous beasts; then looked again at Loveless.

Loveless nodded. "What do you know about lycanthropy, Mr. West?"

Jim sighed. "Not a great deal. I know it's the study of werewolves." Then he remembered the book Artie had found in a stagecoach called The Legends of Lycanthropy and what he had read in it. He added, "'Whereupon the fifth night, with the full moon, the body of the beast will be inhabited by the mind and soul of a man and he shall track as the beast tracks, pursuing his prey to the most unholy places…' I read that in a book recently. Coincidences, coincidences…"

Loveless chuckled. "Very good. But it's not full moon anymore, Mr. West, and yet these werewolves are still in full-beast mode…"

Frowning, intrigued, Jim asked, "How is it possible?"

Miguelito Loveless turned and gestured to a very well-equipped lab on the other side of the vast underground room. "Based on my experiments on a werewolf – a man who had been bitten by another werewolf, and that I finally killed with a silver bullet because I didn't need him anymore - I managed to create a drug that triggers the transformation of a human being into a werewolf without the use of any curses, magic spells, or talismans. I created artificial werewolves." He looked again at the beasts in the cages. "These creatures were humans a couple of hours ago, formerly some inoffensive farmers. Look at them now! They are killers! My drug works! They will stay in that state for 24 hours before the effects wear off. Then, when they are once again in human form, they won't remember anything." He moved towards the cage Artie was in and added, "The next step in my great plan is to train a werewolf to attack and kill a designated person. I choose President Ulysses S. Grant as my target, and my assassin will be a werewolf called Artemus Gordon."

Jim blanched and shook his head. "No!"

Loveless nodded and grinned. "Oh yes! Then, after Grant is dead, it will be chaos – and I like chaos! – at first in San Francisco and then in the entire country! And I could sell my drug to anyone who can pay for it – for a fortune, of course. Because I need money, a lot of money to pursue my experiments and create all my wonderful machines – my machines that you and your partner destroy each time! But I'll take care of that part of my plan later. I have to focus on the first part of it."

Jim nodded. "It's our job to stop you, and your new plan will fail, like all the others."

Loveless shook his head. "Not this time. I'll see to that." He glanced at the prone figure of Artemus who was still unconscious. "Don't worry, Mr. West, he's going to be alright. Once a werewolf, his wound will vanish like magic and he'll be fine."

Jim nodded. "That's why you didn't treat his wound."

Miguelito nodded. "Yes, and it gives me the pleasure of seeing Mr. Gordon suffer too." He ignored Jim's venomous look and added, "The President is scheduled to make a speech in San Francisco in two weeks at the Governor's residence, and as usual, he'll have his two best agents at his side: Mr. Gordon – and you too of course, Mr. West. Mr. Gordon and you won't remember anything of your stay here, thanks to a 'memory loss' drug I will inject you with before you go back to your train. I won't kill you this time – not directly I mean - but you will die eventually. The werewolf will kill you, Mr. West, after he has killed Grant, and then he'll be shot dead by one of my men – with silver bullets because a werewolf is immune to damage caused by ordinary weapons, being vulnerable only to silver objects – like silver bullets."

Suddenly Artemus blinked his eyes open and breathed helplessly, "Jim… Jim… help me." Before passing out again.

Jim looked at his partner through the bars of the cage. "Artie! I'm here, buddy."

Loveless snapped his fingers. "Remove the ropes!" he commanded and one of the goons immediately complied. Then he pulled out a key from the pocket of his jacket and used it to open the door of the cage. "Go! Join your partner, Mr. West."

James knelt beside his best friend and placed his head on his lap. Artie's face was flushed with fever and his body was trembling. He was burning up!

Miguelito smiled. "Administrating my drug to Mr. Gordon during the President's speech will be easy. I'll use a dart containing it – and the effect will be immediate. But as a wild beast he would attack, maim and kill all the people around him – and not specifically Grant. He could escape and I want him dead. I want the werewolf to target him and no one else. That's what I'm going to train the beast to do. But first I want to test my method with you, Mr. West."

Paling a little more, Jim looked at Artie who was slowly regaining consciousness again. "He won't do it! Artemus won't kill me."

Loveless shook his head. "Once he is a werewolf, the beast commands. Your partner's mind and soul will be dominated by the beast desire to maul, kill and eat - you." He clapped his hands, beaming with pure joy. "That's brilliant, don't you think?"

Jim shook his head. "You're demented Loveless. Your place isn't behind the bars of a prison but behind those of a cell in a mental asylum."

The diminutive man shrieked, upset. "I'm not demented! I'm a genius! But your tiny mind can't comprehend the grandeur of my plan." He looked at Artie who tried to move into a sitting position. "I'll start the training tonight. In the meantime, enjoy your partner's company while he's still a man." He turned around and headed towards the door, followed by his two henchmen.

WWW

Slowly, Artemus opened his eyes again and through a blur, saw Jim smiling down at him. "Hiya Jim… are you alright?"

Jim nodded. "I am, yes. Hi Artie." He put his hand on the other man's forehead. His wavy hair was damp and curled into cowlicks with sweat, and his skin was burning hot against his palm. His eyes were sunken and his lips bloodless.

Artie glanced around him, noticing for the first time the monstrous beast in a cage next to the one Jim and he were locked into. The big, big wolf was looking at him hungrily. His brown eyes big and scared, his body tensed up and he recoiled. "Great Scot! What's that-that thing? Some kind of wolf?"

James nodded again. "Some kind, yes. It's a werewolf, Artie, long story. In short: Dr. Loveless captured us and brought us into his new hideout, somewhere. He has created a drug able to turn a man into a werewolf. It wears off after twenty-four hours. That creature was a farmer a few hours ago. Loveless wants to turn you into a werewolf so that you will kill President Grant and me during a speech in San Francisco in two weeks. Then one of his men will shoot you with silver bullets. Once a werewolf, your wound will heal and you'll be fine. Loveless will train the beast-you to attack only the President and me."

Artemus smiled weakly looking up at his surrogate brother through half-closed lids, wincing as his shoulder was on fire, the pain increasing. "That's… a very creative way to kill the both of us. Loveless will never cease to amaze me with his extraordinary schemes… I didn't know that the President would be coming to San Francisco in two weeks? How did Loveless learn that?"

Jim sighed. "He probably has informants in the high spheres of Washington."

Artie nodded. "But we'll stop him, right? We can't let him do that."

Jim smiled. "Yes, we always make his elaborated plans fail – this one won't be an exception. Everything is going to be okay."

The older man grimaced and gritted his teeth. "Hurts… it hurts so much Jim," he breathed. Then his vision grayed and he lost consciousness again.

WWW

 _Much later_

Loveless injected his drug in Artie's bloodstream and hurriedly moved back before leaving the cage, locking the door behind him.

Standing beside Jim West, he glanced at Jim, now again restrained in the chair with strong ropes and said, "The transformation is fascinating." Then he looked at Artemus, who had moved onto all fours as thick black hair and nails sprouted. With a cracking of bones, his body began to twist out of human shape. Skeletal structure changed, bones breaking, realigning into another form, that of a canis lupus. Limbs lengthened, as he morphed into something else, becoming a wolf.

Hoarse screams of pain filled the air.

More than stunned, Jim couldn't help but gape, wide-eyed, at the scene before him: Artie's face was changing, lengthening and narrowing, contorting into a snout. His ears became pointy and black fur spread out from the back of his neck and over his now lupine face. The werewolf, its body now full and heavy, suddenly threw back its head and howled as he finally came into the world, complete. Then, the beast turned toward the two men, snarling with slobbering fangs and savage, glowing, yellow eyes.

The hair on the back of Jim's neck instantly prickled and he looked at the werewolf with a shocked expression on his face, "That's impossible."

The man he loved like a brother was now a wild and dangerous beast.

Loveless beamed. Werewolf-Artemus was now prowling his cage, growling, suddenly sharp teeth snapped at him menacingly, twice. "Au contraire," he said, "it's very possible. Isn't it beautiful?"

Jim nodded. The massive wolf was beautiful, yes, but he was a terribly frightening creature too. "Is Artemus conscious of the fact that he's a werewolf?"

Miguelito shook his head. "I don't honestly know, but I do know that your partner's mind and soul are trapped inside the beast, and that Artemus can't control it. So, it's possible – and if it's the case, Mr. Gordon is probably utterly terrified right now, and I do like that idea." He noticed that Jim wasn't convinced and frowned. "Forget it, Mr. West; your precious Mr. Gordon will never control the beast. Never. It's impossible. Now let's see if my method of training is working." He took a cattle prod and a leather thong from the table next to the first cage and joining West, he showed it to him. "I made a high-voltage cattle prod. It's connected by a long cable to an electric generator set in the back of the room." He placed the object in Jim's hand and wrapped a leather thong around his wrist, immobilizing it in his hand. "When the werewolf receives a painful electric shock it will associate its pain with you, holding that cattle prod. The next time it sees you – it will remember it and it will kill you to make you pay." He nodded and one of the bulky men pushed the chair close to the cage. "Let's see if our furry friend here loves to be electrocuted."

Loveless moved behind Jim and hid behind him so that the wolf couldn't see him. He pushed Jim's arm. The tip of the cattle prod touched one of the bars and electrified the cage, shocking the beast inside and sending it to the floor writhing in pain, paws curled against its chest.

Loveless pulled Jim's arm backward and the black-coated werewolf growled and hurled itself at the bars close to the agent, snapping its jaw at the man hurting him, drooling, his big eyes wild. "Obviously, our furry friend doesn't like electricity, and it hates you, Mr. West. Good!"

Loveless repeated the action twice, maddening the beast even more, making the werewolf barrel at the bars toward Jim, until it collapsed onto the metal floor, barely conscious.

Miguelito Loveless smiled broadly. "Electric shock training works. Good! Now I just need to do the same thing but with a doppelganger of President Grant in your place. I already have one of my men ready for surgery. The werewolf will hate you both so violently that the next time it sees the real President and you, during the presidential speech, it will kill you both, tearing your throats open and eating your entrails... What a charming picture!" he chuckled and left, followed by his goons.

Imagining the whole scene, horrified, Jim stayed alone with the werewolves.

WWW

 _Later_

Two men came into the vast laboratory-menagerie a couple of hours later, holding two buckets each. Each was filled with large pieces of raw and bloody meat.

The werewolves immediately started to growl hungrily. As the pieces of beef were too large to be slid through the bars, one of the men used the electric cattle prod to force them to move back.

Everything went okay until one of Loveless's henchmen forgot to lock the door to werewolf-Artemus's cage. The beast dropped the piece of bloody meat it had in its mouth, blood splattering its chest, as it noticed this and it immediately hurled itself at the barred door. It pushed it open with its front paws and in two jumps it was outside, growling.

The two men hurried to flee before being eaten alive.

Still tied to his chair, Jim watched helplessly as the creature stalked toward him, its glowing unnatural-yellow eyes locked on him. He tried desperately to shed the ropes restraining him. He felt his hair stand on end as a feeling of dread came over him.

He stopped breathing, paralyzed in terror. "No, no, no!" he rasped.

The werewolf circled the human slowly, growling as it swiped its razor-like claws at Jim's right leg and arm, cutting into his flesh, deep enough for blood to well up from his torn skin.

The smell of blood instantly excited the furred beast. It began to circle again around Jim, trotting rapidly, growling deep and loud.

Ignoring the sharp pain, and panicking totally, Jim babbled, "Artie-buddy, listen to me, you're not going to eat me are you? ... You know me; I'm your best friend. You don't want to eat your best friend, right?"

Still growling, louder, the werewolf suddenly sprang like the predator it was. Jim rocked back under the shock and found himself with the black beast perched on top of him, pinning him to the floor, looming over him with bared fangs, snarling.

Jim gulped audibly, shifting restlessly on the ground. "Don't kill me! Don't!" he said, his voice tense, fighting to control himself as relentless terror still paralyzed his body. "It's me, Artie! It's me!" But the beast moved closer to his throat, its fangs dripping with slobber. The werewolf came so close to his face that he could smell its foul-smelling breath. It smelt of death, he thought. He blanched and closed his eyes. He was going to die. He knew it. "Please, Artie! It's me, Jim!" he whimpered, hoping that there was still a part of Artemus, however small, that would listen to him. "Artie! I know that you're here, somewhere. Listen to me! You have, no, you need, no, you must control the beast. You can do it! You are the strongest-willed man I know! Do it, do it! I know you can. Fight the beast! Take control!"

The werewolf bared its teeth…

Jim re-opened his eyes as he felt the beast's cold, wet nose touch his cheek – sniffing. He suddenly saw something in the beast's glowing yellow eyes, a slight twitch, something almost human. "Artie? Are you in there?" he asked as the beast backed off, whining, waving its tail. "My god!" Jim smiled broadly. "It's you! It's you! Yes!" He exclaimed.

The werewolf crouched beside Jim and using its long, sharp teeth cut the ropes in a matter of seconds. Jim rolled onto his side then moved into a sitting position.

He heaved a long sigh of relief and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Artemus had managed to gain control of the beast, he reflected. "That was close, Artie." He smiled broadly, very proud of his companion. "Antermus Gordon and his fantastic, indomitable iron will… Loveless doesn't know you the way I do. I hoped that you would control the beast Artie… and you did. Never say 'never', Dr. Loveless."

Lowering his head, Artie-werewolf sat on his haunches, waving his tail again. Jim reached out hesitantly then brushed the werewolf between his pointy and hairy ears, scratching at them, eliciting a series of contented noises from the beast that was now more a like dog. "It's kind of strange… one minute before you almost slashed my throat… and now you're like a very big, scary dog." He frowned, still a little worried and needing to be sure, he asked, "You really control the beast, right? The werewolf licked Jim's neck and face playfully, then it rolled on its back, offering its furry belly to Jim so he could pet him there – which Jim did. "Weird. Okay, I have my answer. Loveless thought that it was impossible that you could take control of the beast, but you managed to, somehow. You're the best, buddy."

The giant black wolf barked twice happily and nuzzled his hand with a cold, wet nose then licked it with a raspy tongue.

Jim chuckled. "I should have remembered that nothing resists you, Artie – and that you have the strongest will-power I know. That beast was no match for you." He let the wolf nudge its nose into his neck then stood up and, winced. He let his fingers distractedly trail through the thick, soft and gleaming fur on the giant wolf's neck as he looked around him. "Okay, wolf-buddy, let's get out of here."

In an instant the wolf was on its feet, put its paws on Jim's shoulders and started nipping at the human's throat happily, and then it sniffed the tender and vulnerable flesh before licking the human's Adam's apple, leaving tiny bite marks here.

Jim shook a stern finger. "No biting! Artie, down!" The wolf complied, tongue lolling on the side happily. It barked again. "Good wolf!"

Jim and Artemus-werewolf were on their way to the door when it opened suddenly. They both froze on the spot watching Loveless enter the room, flanked by two other of his henchmen. They both held rifles which they immediately pointed at the beast.

Miguelito Loveless nodded. "So it is possible, you were right, Mr. West. The man trapped inside the werewolf can control the beast – if of course he has a very strong will, like Artemus Gordon has. Your partner is now in control of the beast. But it won't last. I'll see to it. I have some drugs that can annihilate the strongest will, making a vegetable of any man."

Growling the werewolf span round and headed toward the three men, threateningly baring his fangs. There was a soft noise, like a hiss.

One dart shot from the tranquilizer rifle that the shorter of the two goons held, and hit the werewolf. The beast growled in rage, collapsed, and slowly fell unconscious.

Dr. Loveless smiled. "I told you, you won't win the game this time, Mr. West." He nodded and there was a second hiss.

Jim was hit in the shoulder. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

WWW

 _Much later_

His eyes fluttering open, Jim woke up lying flat on his back on a cot in a dimly-lit cell. He blinked dazedly up at the ceiling of his room – his cell, he corrected. He glanced around him. He was alone. He looked at the cuts plowed in the flesh of his right leg and arm and winced.

The bleeding had stopped.

He moved to the door and took a step back when it suddenly opened. Two goons armed with tranquilizer rifles appeared in the corridor. "The doctor wants to see you, move!" the taller said.

Five minutes later Jim and his escort entered the vast laboratory-menagerie. The agent immediately noticed that all the cages were empty except one – with werewolf-Artemus inside. The werewolf was pacing its cage, growling, snarling, and baring its teeth.

Loveless left the stool he was sitting on, behind a long table occupied with extensive chemical equipment and said, "Did you have a nice nap, Mr. West?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Seeing that Jim was just glaring at him, he smiled and added, "What do you think about my tranquilizer guns? Using compressed air, they shoot ballistic darts loaded with a tranquillizer that, when injected, temporarily sedates an animal, so that it may be handled or captured safely." He grinned. "It works on humans too. The tranquillizer can be a sedative or a paralytic drug. I used a powerful sedative on the werewolf and you, for example." Pointing at the beast, he continued, "Speaking of the beast, Mr. Gordon is no longer controlling it. I took the opportunity, when he regained human form a few minutes ago, to administer a powerful will-suppressor drug that short-circuited his brain. Then I transformed him into a werewolf again." He headed towards the cage and continued, "Let's see if it's going to recognize you now, Mr. West. I doubt it."

Framed by the two bulky men holding a revolver each, Jim and his escort followed Loveless and joined him next to the cage.

Loveless tapped one of the bars of the cage. "Here!" he said.

Suddenly, fangs bared, the beast lunged forward and hurled itself against the bars close to Jim, saliva flying as its jaws snapped.

Everyone moved back hurriedly.

Miguelito smiled broadly and said, "The werewolf has recognized you – you're the one who used the cattle prod to torture it. As the cage next to it is now empty – I released the farmers, human-shaped again, as they weren't useful anymore - you are going to keep him company."

Once in the cage, Jim prudently moved as far as he could from the massive black beast, whose wild glowing yellow eyes were locked on him.

Suddenly the werewolf leaped up and darted forward, charging toward James and snarling before stopping a few inches from the bars. It snapped at Jim; it growled at him, its ears folded back angrily. Then the beast moved back and growled at Loveless.

Miguelito chuckled. "As I thought, Artemus Gordon is not in control of the beast anymore – and the werewolf remembers you perfectly." He pointed at the various things placed in the cage that Jim occupied: a couple of blankets, a pillow, a bucket, an earthenware pitcher with water and a tin cup. "I know it's a little Spartan, but you won't stay here long, only until my doppelganger of President Grant is ready and I can train the beast to attack him. Then I will release you and your partner with a drug-induced memory loss. It's not as comfortable as the cell you were in, but I thought you would like to be close to your partner… though he won't be a human being again for 24 hours, so be patient. Have a nice day, Mr. West."

Loveless left, his two ever-present henchmen following him.

Grabbing a blanket, Jim wrapped his almost naked body in it and winced at the sudden flare of pain in his injured arm and leg. He sat in a corner of the cage, as far as possible from the beast now sitting close to the door, which it was trying in vain to push open with its front paws. It was locked this time.

Jim nodded in appreciation. The werewolf was intelligent.

The beast tried two more times to push the door of the cage open before finally realizing it accomplished nothing. It was useless.

The werewolf crouched in the middle of the cage, its yellow feral eyes riveted on Jim.

Jim sighed. "See you in 24 hours, Artie."

To be continued


	2. Part Two

**THE NIGHT OF WEREWOLF**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **PART TWO**

 _24 hours later_

Gratefully taking Jim's blanket, Artemus wrapped his cooling de-transformed-sweat-soaked-and-very-naked body in it, and sat on the cold, metallic floor.

His best friend was sitting crossed-legged on the other side of the bars in his own cage. "Thanks, Jim. It's freezing in here."

Jim smiled. "You're welcome. How do you feel Artie?"

Rubbing his temples tiredly, the older man sighed. "I'm exhausted and my whole body hurts, Jim. Each transformation and de-transformation is pure agony, torture…You can't imagine what it's like. I never felt anything more painful and terrifying in my whole life… but it's nothing in comparison with the sensation of being trapped in the body of a beast with no control over it – I was terrified when the beast wanted to eat you… I couldn't let that beast kill you and I fought to gain control… and I succeeded. I couldn't help but 'sniff' you and then let you pet my fur…" He leaned his forehead against the bars, closing his eyes briefly before looking at Jim again, seeing deep concern reflected in his partner's eyes. "I'm alright – don't worry, I've had worse… No, correction, I have not. Being in control of the beast was… strange to say the least. The last time I walked on all fours was when I was a toddler, and I don't remember it… Everything was more powerful. It was incredible. I felt stronger, invincible… The five senses are much more developed in the wolf than in humans… There were so many scents for example, that it was overwhelming… " He gave Jim a smile, suddenly amused. "Nuzzling your hand and licking it was fun, as well as nipping at your throat… by the way, I think I marked you as mine doing that. You're the first member of my pack…"

Smiling, Jim bowed his head. "I'm honored." He chuckled. "You're the alpha male then?"

Artie chuckled. "No change there, then." Suddenly serious, Artemus pointed at his partner's injuries and said, "I hurt you, Jim. I'm so sorry. Does it hurt much?"

Surveying his injured limbs, Jim shook his head. The cuts had stopped bleeding and the skin around them was red and puffy. "The beast hurt me, not you. You're not responsible. Don't worry, I'm okay, the bleeding has stopped. It itches now, I've had worse…"

Blanching in horror, Artie asked, "Oh God! Did I bite you? Because if I did… I contaminated you, and you're going to be a werewolf too. I read it in the book 'The Legends of Lycanthropy'."

Smiling reassuringly, Jim shook his head. "No, you didn't bite me – well you did actually, when the you-wolf nipped at my throat, but there was no blood, so it's okay."

Feeling immensely relieved, the older man let out a long sigh. Then he asked, "Now tell me what happened after I was shot with that dart – and what are those rifles?"

Moving closer to his best friend, Jim said, "They are tranquilizer guns, Artie. Loveless's latest invention. Darts loaded with sedative are propelled from the gun by means of compressed gas. Those darts can be filled with a paralyzing drug too." Seeing Artie's eyes suddenly brighten with intense curiosity, he added, "I'll get you one to study. Using a basic syringe, Loveless then injected you with a drug to short-circuit your brain, so that you can't control the beast anymore, and it worked and it will work again. As soon as the werewolf saw me, he attacked me."

Artemus nodded. "And he will again, during the President's speech. He'll use a dart containing his drug to turn me into the beast. He will kill you and Grant." He placed his hand on Jim's. "We have to find a way to stop Loveless's plan, Jim."

Jim nodded. "I know." He then noticed a man holding a tray loaded with food heading towards them, with another goon in tow, holding a tranquilizer gun. "Let's see if I can do something…" He stood up and moved towards the door.

Holding the tray in one hand, the man pulled out a key from the pocket of his jacket and opened the door of Jim's cage, while his companion, standing beside him was pointing his gun at the agent. "Move back!" he said – but Jim didn't comply. "I said move back!"

The agent moved even closer. The man holding the tranquilizer gun moved forwards too – and that was the opening West was waiting for.

Closing his left hand, Jim hit the man holding the tray square on the jaw, and simultaneously grabbed the gun barrel of the tranquilizer gun, pulling it towards him then upwards.

He punched the goon between his eyes.

Both Loveless's henchmen collapsed on the floor, knocked out. Jim immediately took the key and opened the cage holding his companion.

Smiling, Artie grabbed a piece of bread still sitting on the tray, growled low in his throat and bit it hungrily. Jim frowned in concern. "You are controlling the beast, aren't you?"

Artie nodded. "Yes I am." He let out an almost feral growl. "I'm famished," he said between two bites. Then he divested the tallest goon of his pants and put them on. Feeling a little less naked, he asked his companion, "What now?"

Jim grabbed the tranquilizer gun and gave it to his best friend while he took the Colt from one of the unconscious men's gun belt. "Let's find a way out, Artie!"

Leaving the vast lab-menagerie behind them they entered another, smaller room containing lots of crates filled with rifles and guns, a lot of barrels of powder, dozens of Gatling guns, dozens of boxes of ammunition, of dynamite, and the like.

At first they exchanged very surprised looks, then concerned ones.

His brow furrowed in worry, Artie said, "Loveless is preparing something very bad, Jim… I don't know what it is, but I intend to discover it. Let's find the man."

Once in a corridor they took it cautiously, looking around them for hidden booby traps – but nothing happened. Facing another door, Jim slowly opened it and entered a vast, richly decorated hall. They padded toward big marble stairs leading up to three stories.

Jim nodded. "I know this place, and so do you, Artie," Jim said. "We've come here several times with the President, invited by Governor Peterson – Governor of California."

Artie nodded in his turn. "Yes, you're right. Do you think it's the real Governor's house or one of Loveless's elaborate reconstructions?"

Jim headed towards the door and opened it. There was a vast park outside with very old trees and a large pond and with ducks. "No, it's the real one, Artie."

In front of Jim two men holding revolvers suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The federal agent took a few steps backwards, his hands raised. He turned and noticed that two armed men were framing Artemus, who had raised his hands too. "It looks like we both got caught, Artie," he concluded.

Suddenly Loveless and Peterson both appeared on the first story, on the other side of the railing. Miguelito said, "I thought I had heard your voice, Mr. West and yours too, Mr. Gordon." He went down the stairs followed by the Governor. Once they were in front of the two secret agents, Loveless said, "You know Governor Peterson, gentlemen? He was kind enough to offer me hospitality – after I kidnapped his lovely daughter. As this mansion was built on ancient silver mines, it was perfect to build my new hideout right underneath – who would search for me here? In the Governor's own house?" He grinned, proud of himself.

Artie frowned. "If you've done anything to Betsy…" He growled menacingly.

Loveless chuckled. "The ever gallant and chivalrous Mr. Gordon. So you know Betsy, and very well, I suppose? I know your reputation with the fair sex, Mr. Gordon. Peterson told me he invited the President and the two of you here several times…"

Snapping his fingers, Jim said, "I know now why you stocked that impressive arsenal down here… You want to take over California after the President's death – taking advantage of the chaos caused. As for your small army, I suppose your men are here, camping in the park of the mansion – ready to move on San Francisco after the President is assassinated."

Miguelito Loveless smiled broadly, "Exactly. You are very perceptive, Mr. West. It's such a pleasure to have intelligent enemies." He pulled out a derringer from the pocket of his jacket and pointed it at Artemus. Then using his free hand he pointed at the door leading to his hideout. "Mr. West, Mr. Gordon, let's return to your cages. I'm not finished with you – there's still a lot of work to be done."

Jim crossed his arms on his chest, smiling. "And if we refuse to obey? What are you going to do? Kill us? No, because you need us to accomplish your plan."

Miguelito Loveless fired, twice. Two bullets hit Artemus square in the chest. Artie collapsed to the carpeted floor like a rag doll. "His only chance of surviving is for him to become a werewolf again – his wounds will vanish automatically, but every minute counts, or it will be too late." he said.

Kneeling beside his wounded partner, James took Artemus in his arms and lifted his body before standing up effortlessly. "Lead the way," he said to Loveless. He followed the diminutive man, holding Artie tightly against him, flanked by the two armed goons.

He stopped when he heard Artie moan, "No, let me die…please, I don't want to become a werewolf again, it hurts like hell, it's torture. Don't let the beast overtake me…, no more of that. And… and I don't want to kill you or the President. Let me die, Jim, please, please."

Jim shook his head, his eyes watery. "No. I'll never let you die, Artie. Besides, if you're dead, he'll turn me into a werewolf to accomplish his plan. Your death is not a solution. We'll find one. For now you have to live Artie. Now hold on, buddy."

WWW

 _Later in the lab-menagerie room_

Miguelito Loveless plunged the needle into Artie's neck, injected the drug and hurriedly moved out from the cage, locking the door behind him. Then, he watched his creation.

Moving instantly to all fours, blood dripping from its wounds onto the metallic floor, Artemus Gordon gave Loveless a deadly glare and groaned, his voice raspy, "I'll make you pay for that…" Then he closed his eyes, waiting for the first assault of intense pain.

His entire body began to shake uncontrollably, spasming and jerking. Artie screamed as white-hot agony ripped through him. His skin erupted in thick, dark hair. The bones beneath his skin were breaking, re-arranging themselves, seizing. His flesh roiled, the muscles elongating, and then the tail grew from his spine, thickening. His face changed then, lengthening and narrowing, contorting into a snout. His ears became pointy and black fur spread out from the back of his neck and over his now wolf face.

The werewolf howled and then lowered its head, narrowing its yellow eyes as it locked them on Loveless, standing outside of his cage. It snapped and snarled savagely.

Loveless smiled, then looked at Jim, locked again in the next cage. "I didn't have time to administer your partner the will-suppressor drug. He was dying and I have dealt with the most urgent need. So, he's now in control of the beast – again. But now that he's safe, I'm going to fetch that drug and inject him. You have a few minutes to play with him, Mr. West."

Miguelito turned around and headed toward his lab.

Jim crouched and reached out between two bars. "Come here Artie-wolf," he said with a smile – and the werewolf trotted toward Jim.

The giant black beast sat on his haunches, tail wagging. He licked Jim's hand and then nudged his nose into the human's neck.

Jim ran his fingers over the soft fine fur on the werewolf's ears causing the wolf to lean into the touch. "You're safe Artie, that's all that matters. Loveless won't win. He always loses, and he'll lose again." he said.

Artie-wolf huffed. He lowered his head, ears drooping, and let out a whine. He lay down with his head on his paws, his tail flat, whimpering, miserable.

Jim frowned. "He won't succeed! Artie, don't give up! You never gave up, ever! Don't start now. I know that things are bad, but I'm sure everything will be fine."

Loveless came back, holding a tranquilizer gun. He aimed at the werewolf and pressed the trigger. The dart hit the werewolf in its side. It yelped in surprise, sprang up to its feet in an instant and lunged forward, hitting the bars of the door with all its brute strength, snarling in bestial rage, making Loveless take a couple of prudent steps back.

Loveless smiled, "Bye-bye, Mr. Gordon," he said as he saw the werewolf turn around and, fangs bared, move towards Jim.

Blanching with fear, Jim moved backward precipitately, and shot a black look at his nemesis. "You won't succeed, Loveless. You never do!" he said.

Miguelito Loveless chuckled. "This time, I will. My plan can't fail. By the way, my doppelganger of Grant is almost ready. I'll start the training soon. In the meantime, try to get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

He left the room two minutes later.

WWW

 _The next day_

The phony President Grant was really enjoying torturing the werewolf using the electric cattle prod to touch the bars of the cage, electrocuting the beast over and over.

Jim gritted his teeth in both rage and helplessness as he watched the terrible scene – unable to do anything. That beast was Artie and Artie was inside the wolf's head, conscious of what was happening even if he was unable to control the beast, he mused. "Stop! That's enough!" he finally said.

Standing behind Grant's doppelganger, Loveless said, "Mr. West is right, that's enough, cease! I don't want you to kill the beast."

The phony Ulysses S. Grant took a step back and dropped the cattle prod on the floor. The werewolf collapsed limply to the floor, barely conscious.

Loveless smiled broadly. "Good! The next time our furry friend here sees President Grant – the real one – he'll kill him on sight." He glanced at Jim and added, "And you after – or you before, I don't know. But I do know that he'll kill both of you."

Suddenly a loud wailing whine coming from the werewolf caused the three men to look at the beast. The giant wolf lay on his side on the cold cage floor, shaking with spasms and rapidly losing its thick fur, which was receding to let human skin appear. Its body shrank as some bones shortened and others lengthened. It lost its tail as it withdrew in its spine and his muzzle shortened. It began to look more and more human. Finally, Artemus Gordon, human being, was back.

Loveless rubbed his hands in glee. "Good! Good!" He moved toward the nearest table and took the tranquilizer gun which was sitting on it. Then he came back toward the cages and said, "Now that the werewolf is trained, it's time for you to go back to your train, gentlemen. Four of my men will take you back to The Wanderer. But before you go, I need to erase these last days from your memory. You understand why, of course. I'm going to administer to you a new drug I created. It's not perfect yet, but it works. It needs a few more tests though, but I don't have time."

Jim nodded. "So it might not work."

Loveless frowned in anger. "It will work! But its action depends on the physiology of each person… we're all different. Anyway, you won't remember a single thing after you wake up." He smiled and then added, "And to reward my men, I'll let them ransack what's left of The Wanderer. I'm sure that they will have real fun doing it." He smiled, proud of himself. "As you can see, I have planned everything. Well… this is the last time we shall see each other Mr. West, Mr. Gordon. I will somehow miss our little games, even if you did ruin all my plans – until now, until this one. But all things must come to an end. Farewell gentlemen. This time, you won't win." Then he pressed the trigger.

WWW

 _Two days later in the Wanderer_

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Jim looked around him, confused. What was he doing lying in his underwear on the carpeted floor of the parlor car, with pieces of broken furniture scattered all around him? He blinked twice, trying to remember something, anything that could explain that – but his memory was blank. The last thing he could remember was having a good time playing poker with Artie – winning each game – and pocketing all his money.

His smile vanished from his lips, he wrinkled his nose when he noticed that he was dirty, smelly and, rubbing his jaw, discovered that he sported a few days' worth of stubble. "What's the hell…?" he said. He stood up and let out a muffled cry and winced. He looked at his right leg and arm and was stunned to see them covered with cuts. He frowned, even more confused. "What?" He spotted his partner sprawled on his back beside the sofa, lightly snoring. He was obviously naked beneath the blanket covering the lower part of his body. "Uh?" He knelt beside the other man and was surprised to see that Artie too was dirty, smelly and that he too had a few days stubble on his cheeks.

He shook Artie's shoulder. "Hey, buddy! Wake up!" Then he frowned, seeing spots of dried blood on his chest. He immediately surveyed the other man's body but didn't find any injury. Confused again, he shook his best friend's arm. "Wake up Artie!"

Slowly, very slowly Artie opened his eyes. "Ooooh!... Jim? You alright?" He brought his hands to his face and groaned. "What happened? I feel like the 7th Cavalry ran over me."

Sitting cross-legged beside his partner, Jim nodded. "I don't know what happened… We both have a memory loss, it would seem." He helped Artie to sit and then gestured to the parlor car. "There was a fight here, and someone or something destroyed a good part of the furniture." He rubbed his forehead as a headache was building there. "The last thing I remember is you and I playing poker… And as I recall you and I weren't drunk. I think."

The older man nodded. "Yes, I remember that too. And you were winning. Okay… we played poker, then why are you wearing your underwear only? And why am I naked with just a blanket wrapped around my hips?" He noticed then his companion's disheveled appearance, his stubbled jaws and fishy smell and his injuries. "I can say that we lost a few days Jim… and you're hurt!"

Frowning, deeply puzzled, Jim nodded. "I know… We were drugged. That's the only explanation I have that can explain all that. But what for?"

Frowning thoughtfully, Artie suddenly snapped his fingers. "Bandits! We were attacked!" Leaning against the sofa as support, Artemus managed to pull himself up and swayed on unsteady legs. Holding the blanket in place with one hand, the other gripping the cushion of the sofa, he said, "We were drugged, we fought the bandits, we lost consciousness and they… robbed us. Damn! "

Furrowing his brow, Jim stood up. "And they took our clothes? No, I have a better explanation. I probably got ready to go to bed when they came here. I was in my underwear, ready to put my pajamas on and… you were in the bathroom, ready to take a bath or a shower when they entered the Wanderer. You grabbed a blanket in your compartment and we met them here. We fought, we lost, they drugged us to the gills to give them time to take anything valuable and they left… I would say three days ago."

Half-convinced, Artie nodded. "You're maybe right. That drug was very powerful then! A large dose of chloroform, perhaps. They could have killed us!" He glanced at Jim's cut arm and leg. "You know it looks like you were attacked by a beast with claws, Jim…but that's impossible." He noticed traces of old blood on his chest and frowned. "I'm hurt!"

Jim shook his head. "No, you're not; I didn't find any injury on you. That blood probably belongs to one of the bandits. He's the one who's injured."

Artemus headed first toward the galley with Jim in tow. They discovered it in disarray. Everything was on the floor: the dishes, utensils, and broken glassware, overturned jars that had once contained flour, sugar, or coffee, and other provisions like biscuits, bread, the boxes containing fresh vegetables, meat and fish kept on ice were scattered on the ground, trampled and crushed. Artie paled, appalled. They had destroyed his precious galley! "Oh my!" Then he ran into the corridor and towards his laboratory, which he found totally ravaged too. Everything was broken – except one stool. Artie became even paler. His slumped on the still intact stool, feeling completely lost and wrecked. "Why?" he whispered.

Jim placed a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Artie. But all this can be replaced – the important thing is that you and I are safe and sound. I went to our sleeping compartments when you were here, and they stole all our money – our last pay and savings - and they had fun destroying everything after that." His stomach suddenly growled. "I'm hungry. Do you think you can salvage enough food and coffee to prepare breakfast?"

Artie nodded. "Yes, I think so."

WWW

 _Later_

Jim and Artemus were sitting at the table, wolfing down piles of jam-covered toast and caramel-covered pancakes when the telegraph key clicked alive, signaling an incoming message.

Jim picked up a piece of paper and a pencil, writing it down. Once the message finished he tapped an acknowledgment and read it: "From Colonel Richmond. Rendezvous in Denver to take special guest on board. Have the State Room prepared." … He smiled and joined his partner. "Well, we'll have the President on board, Artie."

Frowning in worry, Artie said, "And if we are attacked again?"

Jim's smile grew. "The President doesn't travel alone, Artie, remember? He'll be accompanied by four well-trained special agents at least. Everything is going to be okay. And there's no need to tell him what happened to worry him, right?"

The older man sighed. "The whole train is a mess! Even the State Room! It's going to take us at least two days to repair what is salvageable and to dump what is destroyed. Then one day to refurbish the Wanderer completely and we'll have to make a stop before we reach Denver so I can buy everything we need – we lost almost everything in the galley."

Jim patted his partner's arm reassuringly. "Relax Artie, everything is going to be okay."

WWW

 _Much later_

President Grant entered The Wanderer enveloped in a cloud of blue smoke. Smiling, he shook his agent's hands and said, "It's good to see you again, gentlemen."

Surprised, Artie looked outside and saw the presidential escort leave the Denver railroad station. He closed the door and said, "No security agents, sir?"

Grant chuckled. "What for? I have the best agents of the Secret Services here with me. I'm sure that you can protect me."

Jim smiled. "Of course sir." He ignored Artie's worried look and asked, "What are your orders sir?"

The President sat on the nearest couch. "I have a speech to make in San Francisco on the 9th of September for the 25th anniversary of California's membership to the Union. I hope that we'll reach San Francisco in time, gentlemen."

Artie nodded. "We will, sir."

WWW

 _San Francisco a week later_

Jim was nervous. There had to be several hundred people gathered on the esplanade in front of the presidential platform. Ulysses S. Grant was very popular, but also had many enemies who wanted to kill him - and one assassin or more could hide in the crowd, waiting for the right moment to shoot the president, then fleeing by taking advantage of the general panic.

He glanced at the policemen framing the crowd and then turned around. A complete cavalry regiment stood ready to act on any problems.

He looked at his partner then, who was looking around too, just as nervous.

Hands ready to grab their guns, they moved closer to the President when he moved toward the edge of the platform, grinning, waving to his electors.

The younger agent suddenly saw a glint in the crowd and immediately located it: There was a man leaning against a tree holding something. He narrowed his eyes and saw the glint again and behind it – something dark he couldn't clearly distinguish.

It was enough for him to move in front of the President. "Sir, I saw something… Stay behind me. It could be an assassin."

Trusting Jim completely on this, Grant stayed behind Jim and slowly moved back with the other man, as the crowd was wondering what was happening.

Suddenly Artie let out a yelp of pain and brought his hand to his shoulder where a dart containing a powerful will-suppressor drug had just pierced his skin and flesh. He removed it. Then a second dart, hit him, containing the drug turning a man into a werewolf this time.

Artemus collapsed on the platform, wincing. He looked at Jim and said, "Don't worry about me, keep the President safe."

Then his entire body began to shake uncontrollably, spasming and jerking. Artie screamed as white-hot agony ripped through him. His skin erupted in thick dark hair. The bones beneath his skin were breaking, re-arranging themselves, seizing. His flesh was roiling, the muscles elongating, and then the tail grew from his spine, thickening. His face changed then, lengthening and narrowing, contorting into a snout. His ears became pointy and black fur spread out from the back of his neck and over his now wolf face.

Both Jim and Grant stopped dead in their tracks.

Grant breathed, "Oh dear God!" and Jim simply said, "Artie!"

The werewolf quickly got rid of its clothes, shredding them with its claws and snarling, it took a step toward them, lips curling over its long, pointy and sharp fangs.

Soon the two men were running – as far as possible from the massive wolf.

The crowd, more than terrified by the werewolf, scattered in blind panic, crying out in terror. The policemen and the soldiers providing security opened fire on the creature without hurting it. The bullets went straight through it, the wounds closing immediately.

The werewolf's eyes locked on its targets. It tilted its head to the side, puzzled. It recognized the two humans but not their scents.

But scents didn't matter – they were there, running away and it sprinted in pursuit.

Pushing President Grant into a cab, Jim closed the door and asked the coachman to move out – and the vehicle immediately left. He turned and immediately fired at the giant black wolf running in his direction. None of his bullets stopped the werewolf.

He raised his gun just as the beast leaped at him, barreling him over and forcing the breath from his lungs. Snarling savagely the wolf lunged forward to strike at his throat. "I'm sorry, Artie," he said and he fired again twice, right between the beast's eyes. The beast moved back under the impact – and started circling around his prey, growling, fangs bared.

Suddenly Jim remembered everything, coming to his mind in spurts: Talamontes and his pseudo-werewolves; Leandra trying to kill him; Artie impersonating King Stefan IX; Artie being hurt in the shoulder; Artie giving him a silver bullet which he pocketed; Loveless kidnapping Artie and himself; Loveless administrating to Artie the drug to turn a man into a werewolf; Artie being a werewolf and trained to kill Grant and himself; Loveless injecting the drug to induce memory loss in their blood; the dart loaded with the werewolf drug in Artie's shoulder…

He plunged his other hand into the pocket of his jacket, the same jacket he was wearing when Artie had given him the silver bullet: the silver bullet that he had placed in his pocket, automatically.

He sighed, heartbroken. There was only one way to stop the werewolf – put a silver bullet in its head, or in its heart.

But that meant killing Artie too – the man he thought of as a brother.

He quickly removed the remaining bullets, dropping them to the ground, put the silver bullet inside the barrel of his Colt, and pointed it at the beast. The werewolf had stopped, ready to attack again. It lunged forward growling in pure bestial rage.

BANG!

The werewolf let out a surprised yelp as it was hit square in its head and collapsed on the ground. Jim lowered his eyes, tears rolling on his face. "Oh god!" he breathed.

He had just killed Artie.

The beast let out a plaintive whine and tried to stand, in vain. The werewolf finally rolled on its side and closed its eyes.

Jim took a shuddering breath and sank to his knees, suddenly strength-less, eyes still wide with shock, as he watched Artemus change, his human body reforming with sickening noises of breaking bones and muscles popping - to look more and more like a human being… Then once the transformation was complete, he leaned forward, rested his forehead against Artemus's. His eyes burned as they welled up. Breaking down into sobs, he buried his face in Artie's broad shoulder, then, his whole body shaking. He pulled Artemus's stark naked body him in his arms, holding him tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he repeated, nestling Artie's face against his chest, one arm closed on his back, the other holding the back of his now human head.

The cab came back a few minutes later, stopped, and Grant, walking rapidly, joined his two agents: one alive, one dead.

He knelt beside Jim finding him sobbing relentlessly.

Feeling tears welling too, Grant said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Artemus was a good man; I loved him like he was my own son…"

Leaning toward the dead man, the President raised his left hand and pulled aside a few locks of wild, curled hair forming a nest of cowlicks at the back of his head, where the hair was thinner and was intrigued by a white, crescent-moon shaped, scar. "I didn't know he had been injured there…"

Frowning, puzzled, Jim looked at the scar too. "Because he wasn't", he said, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "I live with Artemus 365 days a year, Sir. I know him by heart, his body included, like he knows mine - perfectly. I can even tell you how many freckles he has on his right arm: 13. He doesn't have any scar on the back of his head…" He smiled broadly. " This man is not Artemus Gordon, but a very elaborate double – he even has a phony Comanche tattoo on his back." He lay down the false Artie to the ground and observed his right arm. He nodded in appreciation. "All the spots correspond with the 'original' and the number is correct, 13. I must say it's a very elaborate double, almost perfect. But he's not quite perfect. The surgeon or the surgeons who did that prodigious work didn't see the scar that man had on his scalp, hidden by his hair… but you did, Sir." He beamed, overjoyed at finally realizing that that man was not Artie. He hadn't killed him! He sighed in immense relief and beamed. "Thank god!"

Grant was frowning in concern. "If it's not Artemus, he is probably prisoner somewhere…"

Jim nodded. "Prisoner of Loveless." He crouched beside the dead man and added, "That man was a very good actor, he imitated Artie to perfection. I really thought that he was Artemus, he even had his voice! He fooled me completely – and you too, sir. If Loveless created such a perfect double to take Artie's place, that's because he had planned to keep Artemus at his side… so Artie is still in Loveless's hideout. And I remember where it is located."

Grant nodded. "Take the police with you. Find Artemus and put Loveless under arrest."

Jim nodded too. "Yes Sir, and send a regiment to the Governor's mansion, sir. Loveless is hiding there and he has an army and an arsenal at his disposal."

WWW

 _Later, in Loveless's hideout_

Loveless glared at his henchman. "He what? That's impossible! No one can kill a wolf with ordinary bullets! Not even the great James West!"

The other man nodded. "But he did! Everything was going like you had planned it: I shot the dart, the werewolf immediately attacked West and the President. I was ready with the silver bullets you gave me to kill the beast after he had killed them, but… but I saw him, I swear! West killed the beast, Doctor. He's still alive and the President is still alive too. It's incredible."

Chained to a table of the laboratory, Artie chuckled. "Your plan failed, Loveless – again. You won't win that game, never."

Loveless suddenly grabbed his goon's gun and pointed it at the agent, his face distorted by rage. "I'm going to kill you!"

Unfazed, Artie shook his head. "No you're not. You need my expertise as a chemist. That's why you kept me here chained up: to create new formulas for you."

Miguelito lowered his revolver. "But I don't need your partner. He has no talent I can use." The door opened and a henchman entered the vast room. He was out of breath and looked distraught. "What is it?"

The goon pointed at the corridor behind him. "West is here, Doctor, with lots of policemen! There's a big gunfight going on up there."

Loveless blanched. "That's impossible! I administered my memory loss drug to him. He shouldn't have remembered anything!"

Artemus grinned. "It would seem that your drug is very unpredictable in its length of action… You really need my help." He smirked.

Miguelito Loveless was red with fury. "He's certainly on his way here. I'm going to offer him a furry welcome. He'll die this time," he cackled, rubbing his hands with glee. He glanced at Artemus, still smirking. "You're going to die too, Mr. Gordon, devoured by a werewolf…" He looked at the big and bulky goon standing beside him. You're going to be perfect, Parker."

Parker frowned. "Perfect for what?"

Discreetly, Artie took a vial he had just filled with a chemical of his making, and poured some drops on the links of his chain. 'Hurry! Hurry!' he thought, beginning to worry.

They slowly disintegrated.

WWW

 _Much later_

Holding his gun, James West opened the door leading to the lab-menagerie, took a step forward and stopped, very surprised to find Artemus Gordon sitting on a chair next to the last cage on the right, a tranquilizer gun on his lap. The older man was smiling. He noticed that there was a big werewolf sprawled at his feet, a dart lodged in its chest.

Resting the tranquilizer gun against the chair and then standing up, Artie said, "You took your time, James-my-boy. I was beginning to worry about you."

Heading toward his best friend, Jim put his gun back in his holster. "I'm sorry Artie, but I was slowed down on the way by several of Loveless's henchmen who wanted to kill me. The false Grant was captured too. But you didn't need my help, Artemus, as I can see. The hunt was good I bet?"

Artemus chuckled. "Very. The werewolf is sleeping soundly and he's totally harmless. But Loveless escaped – as usual. But we won, and he lost, as usual." Smiling he added, "Never underestimate a chemist of my talent." Seeing that his companion looked puzzled he said, "I'll explain later."

Jim nodded. "Are you okay?"

Artie smiled. "Yes, I'm okay."

Beaming, the two men hugged for a long moment, and then they parted, still holding each other by their shoulders.

Jim took Artie's hand in his and squeezed it in his, very touched. "I thought I had killed you – again – but this time it was real, and not a drug-induced hallucination. I thought I had lost you, Artie. But fortunately that werewolf wasn't you, he was your doppelganger."

Lifting his eyebrows in total surprise, Artie asked, "You killed the werewolf? Really? How? And I have –had - a double?"

Jim smiled. "Yes, you had a double, but he wasn't perfect. Now he's dead. I killed the wolf with the silver bullet, the one I put in the pocket of my jacket after you gave it to me in the Wanderer. You remember?"

Artie nodded. "Yes, I remember. That was after I was shot in the shoulder. It was mighty fortunate that you were wearing that jacket again today, Jim."

Jim nodded. "Yes, mighty fortunate. But there's something I still don't get. Loveless created a double of you, trained the werewolf-he to attack and kill the President and me, but why?"

Artie gestured to the well-equipped lab. "Oh that's simple, Jim. I have certain talents in chemistry Loveless knows about and that he wanted to have. And the only way to have them was to keep me prisoner, working for him. With me dead, nobody would have looked for me, rescued me. That's why he used a double – so that everyone gathered at the Presidential speech could see me change into a werewolf, kill the President and you – and die, because he had planned to kill the wolf-me after that. That poor guy probably didn't know Loveless would kill him – and he never thought that you would kill him either. Loveless would have kept me 'in his service' until he didn't need me anymore."

Jim nodded. "It was well thought-out. Very Loveless."

Artemus took back the tranquilizer gun, looked at it and smiled. "It's a nice gun, it's light, it's well-balanced, it's efficient, it's very-well conceived, but the dart, tsk! Tsk! It's not very discreet to tranquilize someone. I'm going to work on another version, with other kind of projectiles. I have some ideas already."

Jim grinned. "It's good to have you back, Artie."

The two men headed toward the door, shoulder to shoulder.

Jim said, "That man was exactly like you, Artemus. That's incredible! He completely fooled me, and the President too – oh, yes, the President is fine. For example the false-Artemus had the same reaction you would have had when he saw the ruined galley and lab. Loveless surely knows you very well – even private things, like you being quite fond of your galley and your precious lab. He's very well informed about us."

Filled with shock, Artemus halted, and Jim followed suit. "What? Are you saying that my galley and my lab are destroyed?"

Jim patted his best friend's shoulder reassuringly. "Relax Artie. They were – they are like new now. Okay, buddy, let's get out of here. I have had enough of this place."

Artie furrowed his brow. "We forgot something – or someone. You know, to train his not-me-werewolf correctly, Loveless certainly created a double of you too, Jim."

Jim made a face. "Again?" He sighed. "That makes what? Three doubles of me? One is in prison, the first Loveless that created; the second that Dr. Faustina created exploded; and this new one which Loveless has again created and is still alive and has escaped. Mmm… We'll meet one day or another. What about you Artie? How many doubles of you?"

The older man rubbed his stubble chin pensively and said, "Well, if you add surgery and masks… Dr. Faustina created one – who exploded, like yours. Braine used a fake-me wearing a mask, and Loveless created the one that you killed with that silver bullet. That makes three, like you – for now at least." He smiled and added. "Maybe I'll have a fourth double one day, who knows?"

WWW

 _Much later in the Governor's mansion_

President Grant took a glass of champagne in one hand and pointed his cigar at the figure of Artemus Gordon talking to Miss Betsy Peterson. "It's a good thing that Loveless's men told you where that young lady was held prisoner."

Jim nodded. "Yes sir. Artemus knocked out five men before reaching the door of her cell. He really likes her a lot, sir, and he was mad when he heard that Loveless had kidnapped her."

Grant nodded. "I see. I heard that our Artemus seems to like a lot of the female population of Washington too, and it's reciprocated."

They both saw the said Artemus Gordon kiss Betsy's hand gallantly, and then head toward them, smiling and totally relaxed.

Jim offered the second glass of Champagne he held to his partner. "How is Miss Betsy?" he asked before sipping the sparkling amber liquid.

Artie smiled. "Oh, she's fine. She's a strong young woman." He took a sip of Champagne and said, "Thank you for the Champagne, Jim."

Grant let out a cloud of blue smoke and said, "I want a full report on that fantastic adventure of yours as soon as possible."

The two agents nodded and said, "Yes sir." with one united voice.

The President then headed towards the Governor. Jim and Artie raised their cups as a toast, then walked side by side toward the terrace opening on the back garden. They took their places on chairs and both looked up at the not-full moon.

Jim took a swallow of champagne and said, "You know Artie, after that affair with King Stefan, Talamontes and Leandra, I thought that werewolves were just a legend, folkloric tales…but I changed my mind. They really exist. Loveless used one to create his drug." He glanced at his partner. "Do you think other mythical creatures really exist too?"

Artie nodded. "As werewolves do exist, yes I do. You know I recently heard a strange story that took place in the Rockies about people found dead at night totally bloodless… with two puncture holes in their necks. They were buried and then came back to life… I think they were the victims of another mythical creature called a vampire. It's a fascinating being you know, an un-dead being who subsists by feeding on the life essence - generally in the form of blood - of living creatures. Perhaps we should investigate. What do you think, Jim? Are you interested? I could ask Richmond to put us on that case."

Jim nodded. "Vampires? Okay. That sounds like fun."

The end


End file.
